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Poetic T May 1
Oh my god,
    did you just..

He only said it as a joke...

No, no.. you, why you smiling...

(inaudible gurgling)

Well I did a joke..
  
    Knock, knock,

(silence)

      Ok ill fill in the blanks

Who's there..

Who lives forever?

Death...

Punch line was just ****** marvellous!

Marvellous, look at me swallowing a thesaurus .

Ok, he said he'd live forever,
                 I just got to the point we all die,
Be it before were birthed,
              crossing a road.

                             The last cheese burger..
                                    Flatline../\…./\….........

Sorry, but we all die some sooner,
        me not yet,
            you pair,

sorry yes.
Prerna Padlikar Apr 2019
Fill in the blanks.
Feel in the blanks.
Feeling the blanks.
Cherisse May Sep 2018
whenever i feel empty,
I try to evaluate myself,
much like how a student evaluates
the questions before skimming for the answers.

fill in the blanks,
the tiny crevices made by sadness,
the cracks and gaps of loneliness;
help me and fill them out with human company.

fill in the blanks;
sheets of paper, empty,
an untouched screen, the faint humming of a computer,
the pens and pencils, neat and free from human activity.

fill them in; draw and draw until your mind begs to stop;
write and write until the words don't make sense;
I've been trying to do so much
just to make sure that gaping hole of pure, slow, and excruciating loneliness and depression gets temporarily covered.

I've been trying to fill in the blanks in my life since day one.
It seems like it'll never work.
I want to keep writing until I can feel like I am something again.

It seems like I've lost myself and I will never be able to get myself back, much like a student who crams for a test and forgets everything, with no hope of recovering that information.
ryn Mar 2018
My mind shot rounds.
Successful bursts.
But they wouldn’t stick.
They wouldn’t stain.

Shot out some more.
The same...

Been shooting unfocused.
Been shooting stray and reckless.
Been shooting blanks.
this poetic prologue
a feeble exercise
to encapsulate common
place frustration
experienced by

this fledgling author.
yukon determine verdict
once ye peruse short
spurious poem
below decks
will consume scant minutes.

hoop fully byte size
format asper reflections
bing hobbled akin twin
frustrated cobbler
with nary a sole

to shoe healing power
of summoning
creativity words
stitched together
trying ma darnedest
to capture
fleeting idea.
filed within memory banks

jagged shoals of rock
illusory images frieze
leitmotif cerebral pad lock
forcing together mis
matched metaphors
or what not ad hoc

there a young lad skipping
with his lass in colorful frock
passing fanciful day dream
lazing about on the dock
while hands of time tick
on the clock

sober reality check tears me away
from idyllic distractions
rearing head of immense
frightful mental block
a bygone student of Antioch.

now an epilogue and expansion
of given thesis sans above premise.
i now oblige objective at hand,
and resume con sue mating

avant garde fashion express
sing difficulty for me
to seal craft building blocks
of english language in
a fitting manner does justice,

and gives liberty to leap
ping lizard like thoughts
that dart to and fro
hither and yon within my mind.

rather than censor or edit,
I pour out at rapid fire rate
the notions that flit thru
me noggin staring at black

strunk white screen. some
times eyes remain closed
to help initiate process
to summon forth this, that
or another barely
perceptible concept.

the task less difficult
when topic provided
happens to be the case
with self imposed

approximately five ***
dread word epistle,
which preconceived
subject automatically

narrows focus into
figurative box.
when provided  
with specified issue,
the effort arduous
to gather plethora

of disparate points
indicating directions
diatribe in question could shift.
any one of these paths
(if not most) take down  
moribund dead end

with only infinite abyss
as an escape. countless trials
and errors find exploration
(to state near physical exhaustion)
where each bramble strewn route

only finds this pensive fellow hopelessly
and inextricably entangled within his
own thicket of unprintable verbiage.
would you believe and/
or accept, that ah aha
eureka moment arises

(and vacuum powerfully
***** up every ounce
of concentration)
most unexpectedly
and inconveniently

per on the toilet,
when paragraphs
nearly tumble pell mell
of their accord

(defying laws
of physics) from
tips of these fingers
or bowels of this simian.

a frantic attempt finds
zealous effort to tap
unstoppable barrage
barreling forth

from fount of mother
lode, than finds
slightest distraction
(such as a delivery
of parcel, tornado,
cosmic catastrophe,

et cetera) to lose precious spider
thin thread forever
(at the eleventh hour)
lost along vast vista
abandoned like useless
obsolete materiel.

even upon minutes scrutinizing
satisfactory completion
sans lengthy manuscript,
an unbiased opinion

of displeasure frequently
takes place finds disappoint
ment, and these myopic eyes
blink and stare once again
at white washed computer screen.
Delta Swingline Mar 2017
Hi!

My name is ___ and I'm _ years old. My favourite subject is ___ and I like to ____ in my spare time. I believe in __ and from time to time I also go ___.

My family is pretty cool, I've got siblings and I really enjoy my time with my family. My father however is currently ___ and my mom is trying to cope with that.

My school is very
___, but I enjoy being there anyway. My friends are very ___ and I enjoy my time at school, it's a nice time to enjoy my own existence in a building.

But you don't want to live my life. It's too
____. Underneath this skin lies the ___ I try to hide. I'm constantly ___ and ___.

Why am I just so
___ with this?!

You don't know how much I go through. You barely know me. There is always information lost in translation. You shouldn't feel bad that you don't know me. How could you? You're missing something. I can tell you what it is.

You-- are missing
____.
There are too many things that we didn't say until it really was too late.
The beginning and you knew from the start, your words formed like heaven sent art.
There's nothing I'd rather do than just be with you, kiss you, tell you I love you.
But I'm not stupid, I'm not blind, I can see it's all a lie.  
Throughout the middle, it's a riddle and hard to understand but it's always been a man I wanted to hold my hand.
The truth is hidden inside and when it comes time,
A lie will fill in this rhyme.
This line will tell the whole truth, everything you don't even know about you.
Towards the end, it's a friend I need but I couldn't tell you where that might lead.
There's more to it, I filled that in too late, now I must accentuate, it must have been fate.
The ending will show the past and a future that don't exist, a heartbreak you knew I couldn't resist.
That moment when you just can't fill in the blanks of your life,  your love, or your relationships...
Michael McLean Apr 2014
I glide beside and behind
a fog gathering
where washed love stains satin
I hold
drawn tightly
swelling
The Follower my target
blasting out and in
between the graves of the ninety-eight percent
I breathe the introduction
in leaves inscribed
foiled
I am blown glass
molded in heat
in the shock waves of a bullet in slow motion
in free fall

— The End —